


Same Time Tomorrow?

by The_Oz_Shack



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, minor choking kink, semi-public, this is just 1000 words of garbage, this one's for you deacon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 13:31:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15558792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Oz_Shack/pseuds/The_Oz_Shack
Summary: literally just a roughly 1000 word one shot of two of my inquisitors, did this for writing practice and a gift for my friend deacon, you're welcome old chav





	Same Time Tomorrow?

"Damn it- Careful with the hair-"

The irate tone in Valhalla's deep voice drew Conwell's full attention back to reality. His lungs were still heaving heavily, the feel of his own hot breath on his face from how close of proximity he was to the other's face another wake-up call in itself. He had his arms wrapped over the slightly shorter elf's shoulders, still gloved fingers tangling into the heavy, dark locks of hair. 

He loosened his tight fisted grip in the other's hair, swallowing dryly as he traced his gaze over Val's own face. Despite the dark scowl that curled the elf's eyebrows, casting a shadow almost as deep as his frown, the soft flush in his pale cheeks gave away his own feelings in the situation, like a crack in the ice.  


Val's own hand gripped the nape of his neck, a silent command that had Conwell tilting his head back, careful not to bump against the wall he was pressed quite forcefully up against. Hot breath and the soft press of lips just below his jaw drew a breathy groan from him, finding himself tugging at the other's hair again to egg him on. The sharp scrape and drag of teeth his neck has his nerves flaring in an icy-hot fire. It was hard to think. Fuck, right now, he'd do just about anything the other asked of him.

Almost as if his thoughts had been read, Valhalla drew away from his neck, hand still gripping the back of the man's neck tightly. 

"You're being too loud, someone's going to hear you." he hissed sharply, though his piercing green gaze never turned from Conwell. He shifted his grip on the other man's neck to move to the shoulder, giving him a heavy shove to push him down to his knees. Conwell went down easily, a single hand gripping the leathers that covered the elf's thighs tightly for balance. Knowing indefinitely what was to happen next, he tugged the glove off of his free hand with his teeth, letting the half metal gauntlet fall to the floor with a soft clatter. 

A bit quicker than he would have liked, he trailed a hand up to hook the edge of Val's leather-bound pants, wasting no time to pull them and his small clothes down. He could practically feel the elf shiver under his fingers as his half-hard erection was exposed to the cold hall's air. He trailed his bare fingers over the soft, pale skin of his hip bones, trailing down to gently grasp Val's cock in his hand, twisting his wrist to gives it a few slow pumps.

The half-choked groan that Val let out from the simple action was enough to encourage Conwell to press the head of his prick into his mouth, tongue trailing along the underside of it. 

"Fuck- Conwell-"

Val hissed, one hand snapping up to press against the wall to keep his balance, other curling to grasp the back of the other man's head tightly. It took almost all his self control to avoid throat fucking the man's mouth right then and there, and settled for a small thrust of his hips accompanied with a deep, drawn out moan. 

Conwell kept his fingers curled around the base of the cock, bobbing his head slowly, almost teasingly, as he never went further than the head of his cock, tongue tracing over the slit slowly with each bob. 

He dragged on with the same movements for what felt like an eternity, reveling in the strained, impatient sounds Val made no effort to cover up. Finally, when Conwell nearly pulled off the other's cock completely, Val gave a sharp squeeze to the back of his neck, and he gasped softly, jaw gaping ever so slightly as he looked up at the elf's face finally. Val's bottom lip was dark pink, as if he had been chewing it ceaselessly to stay calm.

"Hold your, ngh- breath-"

He groaned deeply, only giving him enough time to relax his jaw a bit more, before thrusting deep into his mouth with a strangled gasp. Both of Conwell's hands immediately grasped Val's upper thighs tightly, tanned and gloved fingers digging into the pale, soft flesh. The snap of the elf's hips picked up pace quickly, a muffled moan dragged from Conwell's throat as he felt his oxygen nearly cut off from each relentless thrust. 

Something about the dull pain growing in his lungs from a lack of breath had his own prick twitch with interest in the tight confines of his pants. Each of Val's thrusts had the tip of his cock pressing to the back of the his throat, his throat flexing uncomfortably as he nearly gagged each time.  


A hazy fog pressed at the corners of his vision, unable to hear any other sounds but the loud thrum of his pulse in his ears and the strangled groans that were impossible to tell if they were coming from Val or himself. 

"Con-.. well- fuck, ah-" The elf's hips finally jerked sharply, stuttering to a jerking halt deep in Conwell's mouth, a bitter, thick liquid washing over his tongue, as the elf came with a near guttural moan. After a few more small thrusts, Val finally pulled out slowly, and Conwell could almost feel each hot pant of excaustion the other let out. 

Finally, the elfvhen man tucked his flaccid prick back into his small clothes and readjusted his leather pants, face turned from the other but the deep blush on the tips od his ears apparent enough.

Conwell drew in a sharp breath, the first one in minutes, his lungs squeezing in pain from lack of oxygen, almost like an orgasm in itself. His mouth tasted bitter and dry, and he could swear to the Maker that he looked as much of the unraveled mess as he felt. 

He looked back up to Valhalla, chest still heaving with each heavy breath, watching the other turn away, almost shyly, as the elf straightened up his hair.

"Erm... We should head back to the war table soon. Someone will notice us both missing."

Conwell couldn't help the grin that grew on his face, an eyebrow arched proudly at Val's clearly embarrassed retreating figure, calling out a final reply, voice still rough.

"Same time tomorrow?"


End file.
